


Capacity for Forgiveness

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [41]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though aunt Masama has interrupted them, Renji and Byakuya manage to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capacity for Forgiveness

Renji turned to see the dreaded Auntie Masama sliding open the door of the suite opposite theirs. Her long, silver hair was braided into a single long rope that hung nearly to her waist. Her sleeping yukata was a simple dark blue with a painted pattern of dancing snow cranes. Renji had never seen her in so few layers and she looked smaller, almost frail. 

Nothing was frail, however, about her eyes. Like all Kuchiki, her gaze was steel and ice and directed right at him. 

Renji, however, wasn’t in the mood for this shit. “What the fuck are you doing in the room opposite ours? Who let you have that?” Because it wouldn’t have been Eishirō.

“I’ll have you know that this room was mine before your dirty, recycled soul appeared in the Rukongai. I always had the room opposite my brother’s. Since when does the master suite belong to you?”

Renji blinked, a little startled to realize that Masama had likely grown up in this very same house. Of course she must have, given the estate was generations old, but for some reason Renji had never pictured it before. He scrubbed his face, conscious of how chapped his lips felt and how his hair still wanted to cling to his mouth. He glanced into the master suite, not at all surprised to see that Byakuya had pulled his vanishing trick. Renji couldn’t blame him for wanting to change before confronting his elder relative. Speaking of, a keen eye might be able to pick out the mess they’d left, so Renji stepped more firmly into the hall and slid the door shut.

“I asked you a question,” Masama huffed.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have a good answer, so I ignored it,” Renji replied. She opened her mouth but he talked over her, “How long were you skulking around, eavesdropping?”

Her face smoothed into a very self-satisfied smile. “Long enough to know that there’s trouble between the two of you.”

Renji didn’t think she’d be smiling like that if she’d actually understood what they were talking about. Then again, she had a pretty cold soul. Maybe she was honestly pleased to hear that Byakuya had held him down. 

Again.

Renji rubbed his face again. It was late, he’d just had kind of shitty sex, and he really had no energy left to deal with the weird ass social mores of Soul Society nobility. Letting out a sigh, he leaned his butt against the opposite wall. “When we were first together I told him that since I’d worked so hard, and clawed my way up, I wouldn’t let anyone push me down.” Renji said, talking to himself out loud. “But, I always let him, don’t I?”

Aunt Masama didn’t seem to know what to do with this information. She blinked rapidly, several times, and then said, “It sounds as if you’ve learned your place.”

“” _My place_ ,’” Renji let out a little laugh. He tugged his recalcitrant hair away from his face yet again and wished he had a hair tie. “My fucking _place_. Must’ve heard that a thousand times. It’s like an echo chamber in here. I guess he comes by all that honestly, huh? You must be proud.”

She looked very confused. “I am.”

“Well, there you go then,” Renji said, his voice much more steady and calm than he felt. “You can head back to bed, safe in the knowledge that Byakuya is acting exactly the way he was raised by you lot.” 

“However, I am trying to overcome the handicap of my birth,” Byakuya said, sliding the door open. He’d changed into a pale blue yukata. The color was light, like a morning sky, and had a fiery phoenix painted in reds, yellows, and oranges like a rising sun. Glancing up at Renji, Byakuya said, “Though it proves very stubborn.”

That phrase made Renji smile crookedly, blow a bit of stray hair from his face, and say, “Willful, huh?”

“Just so,” Byakuya said, with a little flicker of a smile. In his arm, Byakuya carried a small basket, which he showed his aunt. “We were headed to the sento. If you wish, you could join us.”

Renji almost choked a little. It wasn’t like they’d all be naked together; there was a wall separating the men’s section from the women’s. But, still. A bath with… her????!! 

No way Masama would take Byakuya up on it, though, right? 

“I don’t believe you are offering in good faith, but I accept,” she said. “I’m rather fond of a midnight soak. Particularly in snowy weather.”

Byakuya didn’t seemed fazed at all. “Excellent. We shall leave the masters’ entrance open for you, Lady Aunt.”

#

Renji waited until they were outside, on the garden path before he said, “What were you thinking inviting your crazy-ass aunt for a soak?”

Byakuya’s lips pursed together, “Obviously, I assumed she’d say no,” he said snippily. “Though I will admit that I’m also under the illusion if she saw us together, as we really are, she would relent.”

“Yeah, what you said about illusion,” Renji scoffed. “That.”

The snow drifted down in picturesque flakes, fat and lazy, slow dancing in the moonlight. The air had the feeling of a winter winding down, warmth lurking at the edges of the season. 

“Plus, this ain’t exactly been our best night,” Renji scowled.

“True,” Byakuya admitted with a sigh. “I had hoped to salvage it. Now, I don’t know if such a thing is possible.”

“Oi, of course it is. We’ll just have to… talk quietly or something.”

They let themselves in the back door. The heat of the springs was like a hot, wet wall. As Renji found the lanterns and lit them, the water gurgled and bubbled. Byakuya turned on the showers. Renji hung up his flowered robe on the peg and found soaps from Byakuya’s basket. 

Renji knelt there, looking through the things, searching for words. While they were still alone, he wanted to ask: “Why?”

Byakuya turned. He’d just stepped under the spray, testing its warmth. “Why, what?”

“Why did it happen tonight? What makes your demon surface, anyway?” Renji asked trying to sound calm, staying low to the ground, non-threatening, still pretending there was something more he needed in the basket, so he wouldn’t even have to make eye contact. 

For a moment, the only sound was the spatter of the shower water and Renji’s half-hearted paws through the toiletries. “I suppose I feel vulnerable.”

“So the hug was a mistake,” Renji said, glancing up.

“No,” Byakuya insisted, but then, glancing into the darkened corners of the shower room thoughtfully, said, “Perhaps, yes, it might have been. That, and my hunger and… you knowing more about all that than I do… about how to cope. But…. there’s something else.”

Renji waited. He averted his gaze back to the basket, using the feigned search to sublimate his mounting need to growl: ‘if you know what it is, just fucking say it. Holding it in ain’t gonna make it less shameful!’ 

“It’s my desire,” Byakuya said finally. “Sometimes, it’s nothing to do with being vulnerable. Sometimes I look at you--at anyone, I suppose, but your...wildness, in particular--and a dark possessiveness rises up in me. I want you so much, but in… all the wrong ways. Controlling. Owning. Dominating. Commanding.”

Renji nodded, because he kind of understood that. After all, when Byakuya said it like that it sounded fairly sexy. Renji's eyes were still down, but he gave up pretending he was looking for anything and closed up the basket’s latch. “Which can be hot. You only have to ask.”

“Yes, I know,” Byakuya said sharply, clearly angry at himself. “But sometimes it rises up so suddenly and it doesn’t seem like the right time and I don’t think you’ll say yes so… I don’t know, I suppose I imagine I’m the master of it, that I can control myself better than I can.”

“That’s why it always usually happens when you’re drunk,” Renji figured.

“I suppose so,” Byakuya admitted grumpily.

Renji looked up finally, “Okay. So, I’m thinking what we need is a go-word. You know, something that’s the opposite of a safe word. A quick way to ask, check-in, consent-wise. Or, at least let me know that you’re in that particular mood, so I can, you know, be thinking about my safe words and whether or not I need to use them.” 

Standing naked in front of the spray, Byakuya seemed strangely… taken aback, or, Renji quickly realized, astounded and grateful. “That’s… reasonable. Beyond reasonable, really…. sensible, even.” 

Renji smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment, “I have my moments.”

“Yes, very clever. A go-word. Very mature, as well. So, what should it be?” Byakuya asked, holding a hand out to the water, which had been going some time. He pulled it away sharply, as if it had scalded him, and made adjustments with the cold tap. 

Renji stood up, “I dunno, but it’s gotta be something you’ll think of when the dark is coming on. Something I can ask, too, that won’t piss you off more. Is there something you associate with the demon that you could actually say out loud?”

Byakuya stuck his head under the spray, his hair flattening against his head. “It’s that last bit that’s difficult. Though… yes. We could say ‘stable boy’ or... ‘riding crop.’”

“Yeah, let’s go with ‘riding crop,’ that’s nice and visceral, and,” Renji gave Byakuya a feigned sneer, “Frankly, even if you’re in a dark place, I don’t exactly want you calling out for another man.”

“He was a _boy_ , but point taken,” Byakuya said, swallowing a smile of his own. 

Renji stepped up to turn on a shower of his own. 

Byakuya watched him, his smile fading a little. “You won’t share my shower?” But before Renji could answer, Byakuya turned away, “No, of course not, I haven’t exactly earned forgiveness, have I?”

“Ah, it’s not like that,” Renji said, turning off the shower and coming over. “You should know, all the shit we’ve been through, I’m going to forgive you. Eventually. Anyways, despite what you think, I could’ve said something to stop it. And it wasn’t like I was entirely against it. Cripes, you know I got into it. So, it ain’t all on you. It was a little bit of a foul, but no harm, as it were,” Renji said softly. Grabbing a soap, he started to wash Byakuya’s back. “But, I’ll tell you I _am_ getting tired of your demon shit coming up like this, all unawares and such, so I’m glad we’ve got us a new signal. You promise to use it? Otherwise, don’t be surprised if we’re sitting at some bar and you’re getting drunk and I suddenly blurt out, ‘Riding crop’?”

Something about that image made Byakuya chuckle, “Well, that will certainly be… startling.”

“Yeah,” Renji said. Smoothing away the hair from Byakuya’s neck, Renji leaned down to kiss it as the hot shower water sluiced over his head. “I think that’s why I like it. Sounds like an ask. And it kind of is, right?”

Byakuya turned around. “It is, but sometimes I’m afraid I’m asking too much.”

Renji tipped up Byakuya's chin with his fingers and kissed him on the mouth briefly. Then, he touched Byakuya’s nose playfully, making him look up and catch Renji’s gaze. “That’s why I get safe words, too. So it ain’t too much. And we get to decide what is and isn’t. Together.”

Byakuya's face got all soft momentarily and he leaned into Renji’s arms. “Oh, Renji, you’re so determined to make me a better man. How is it I deserve you?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Renji said with a toothy grin. Pulling him closer, Renji risked leading a deeper kiss. 

This was still something they had to figure out, Renji thought as he squeezed Byakuya just hard enough to be a little bit aggressive, but then let go and allowed Byakuya be the one to put his hands on Renji’s shoulders to draw him in even deeper. 

Byakuya was still a prickly, particular lover, with weird rules about touching and who got to do it and when, and that was all still wound up in class and probably wasn’t going to go away anytime soon--especially given that he’d just confessed that the hug and feeling like he didn’t understand how hunger worked had partly triggered the demon.

A ‘go-word’ wasn’t going to fix any of that.

Maybe, over time, it might go some distance into helping Byakuya figure out which exact moments of social class interaction were the ones the demon reacted strongest to… but to do something about it? That would take a lot of self-reflection and a real desire to change.

And the cards were stacked against Byakuya changing in many respects. What was the benefit, after all? It wasn’t like Byakuya’s behavior wasn’t the norm. Guys like him could get away with abusing all the stable boys they owned, because they owned the stable boys, full stop. 

Yeah, sure Renji could make more demands, threaten to leave, to withhold forgiveness, but so much of it was deeply ingrained in the fabric of their everyday life. Hell, there were plenty of things Renji did without thinking himself, because it was right, proper. It wasn’t like he could untangle himself any better.

So Renji kept his hands at his sides as Byakuya’s roamed down Renji’s chest and curled around wet tendrils of hair at his shoulder.

Breaking the kiss, Byakuya frowned sharply at the bit of Renji’s hair that he had twirled in his fingertip. “Are you growing it out?”

Renji blinked, having been in a much different place. “Huh?”

“Your hair. It’s longer.”

“Is it?” Renji asked. He’d told people he was growing his hair when everyone thought something so was different about him after he’d achieved bankai, but he hadn’t consciously decided to do it. Truth was, his hair was weird when it came to growing… sometimes it would stay the same length for decades. Other times, he’d have to schedule a haircut once every two weeks. “Must be one of those times,” he mused aloud. “I guess I ought to get it trimmed.”

“No,” Byakuya said quickly. “No need.”

Renji snorted a laugh at Byakuya’s obvious preference. “Yeah? How long you think I should let it go then?”

Even as he was looking at Renji’s hair so possessively that Renji considered asking ‘riding crop?’, Byakuya pretended disinterest, “It’s no matter to me. It is your signature look, this ‘red pineapple’ thing you have going on, so I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin something you’ve clearly so carefully cultivated.”

“I don’t actually like that nickname, you know,” Renji switched off the water, which was growing cold.

Byakuya handed him a towel and a look. “I’ve seen the t-shirt, Renji. Obviously, it’s your ‘brand.’”

“Well, yeah, it stuck on me,” Renji admitted. “Yachiru’s nicknames tend to do that. So, I figured why fight it? It was fuck-all better than Red Dog or ‘Clifford,’ which was starting to circulate. I tried to get them morons at the Eleventh to go with Red Devil or something awesome like that, or even just plain ‘Red’--but the second the lieutenant started on cueball for Ikkaku and paired that up for pineapple for me, that was all she wrote. Might as well carve it in stone. So I ordered the t-shirt. Put a fucking skull on it, though. I’m the goddamn Red Pineapple of Death to you, pal!”

Byakuya had to cover his laugh. 

Renji made a ‘harumph’ing noise and headed into the hot springs proper. When Byakuya followed, Renji asked, “How come she never saddled you with an annoying nickname?”

“It’s not that she hasn’t, it’s that I’ve never allowed the names to circulate,” Byakuya pointed out, as he stepped down the steps into the heated, gurgling spring water. “Yachiru has quite a few nicknames for me, though she’s quite well aware of how much ‘Byakushi’ irritates me, thus it is her favorite.”

Renji thought about it, “That’s some kind of little white flower?”

Byakuya glanced up. “No.”

“C’mon, can’t I call you my baby flower?” Renji made a kissy face and raised his voice by an octave. “Byakushi-chan!”

Byakuya’s voice dropped deeper. “No.”

“Fine. You’re no fun,” Renji said, stretching his arms out along the lip of the pool. He poked Byakuya playfully with his toe. “Mr. Stick in the Mud is more accurate, anyway.”

“Stick-in-the-Mud-sama,” Byakuya corrected dryly.

“So glad to hear you taking your position seriously, dear,” came Masama’s voice from the other side of the wall.

Byakuya and Renji shared a surprised glance, both having forgotten she’d be joining them. But, then, Byakuya let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes like a petulant teenager. With his shorter hair and no kenseikan, he looked almost young enough to still be one. When it seemed as though Byakuya might offer up a similarly snarky response, Renji splashed across the distance and covered Byakuya’s mouth with his. He kissed against Byakuya’s closed, confused mouth for a moment, and then pulled away to whisper in his ear, “Don’t you think it would drive her more crazy if we didn’t say anything, just.. made noises?”

“Oh,” Byakuya breathed. Then he smiled, pulling a hand through Renji’s hair to draw him back for a more serious kiss. “You’re just full of clever plans tonight, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, I have my moments.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're at all confused by "Clifford" as a nickname for Renji, it's based on the children's cartoon/books, "Clifford, the Big Red Dog," which (Josey checked for me) _did_ air in Japan, so it would be possible that Yachiru or other random Eleventh Division member would have somehow heard of it. I mostly chose it because it would be NEARLY as awful as Maki-Maki, and I wanted a reason for Renji to feel like he'd dodged a bullet. 
> 
> Also, the t-shirt is canon to the anime, of course (so long as you imagine the Bount Arc to be canon, anyway.) If you've never seen the screen shot, Em0Strawberry has documented it on Deviant art: <http://em0strawberry.deviantart.com/art/Red-pineapple-LOL-62258184>
> 
> :-)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


End file.
